My Date With Cheryl
by Red Witch
Summary: Cheryl convinces Cyril to go on a proper date with her. He really should know better by now.


** The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters has gone on a date. This is just more madness from my tiny little mind. **

**My Date With Cheryl **

"Hey Cyril," Cheryl walked into Cyril's office. "What'cha doin'?"

"Trying to figure out the budget," Cyril groaned as he looked at some papers. "What there is of it."

"Cool," Cheryl shoved the papers off the desk and sat on it.

"Hey!" Cyril protested. "Cheryl!"

"I was just thinking about when we were going out together," Cheryl said. "Why didn't it work out between us?"

"Because you **blackmailed me**," Cyril told her. "You seduced me while I was plastered then you blackmailed me into continuing sleeping with you."

"Oh _**that,**_" Cheryl waved.

"And then you left me for Krieger when you got bored," Cyril added.

"Oh right," Cheryl said. "To be fair he was giving me some cool drugs at the time. Some of them I actually knew about. The point is, I need a date for tonight and I was wondering if you'd go out with me. On a real date this time."

"Is there some kind of special function or…?" Cyril asked.

"Nah I'm just bored," Cheryl waved. "And I was thinking, you were kind of fun and a nice guy. So why not go on a real date with you?"

"Do you want the full list or just the top ten reasons?"

"I'm serious," Cheryl said. "Let's be real Cyril. Lana's not going to come back to you. You don't have anybody. I don't have anybody. Why not give it another go? For real this time! No blackmail! Just start over."

"I thought you and Pam were…?" Cyril blinked.

"We have an understanding," Cheryl shrugged. "We're not really dating. It's more like a Lucy and Ethel thing than anything else. So why not?"

Twenty minutes later…

_"Why not?"_ Ray snapped at Cyril in the bullpen. "Why **not**? How about that woman has more than a few bags missing from her marble factory? That's a good reason **why not**!"

"Cheryl owns a _marble factory_?" Krieger was there as well.

"Honestly with that woman it's possible," Cyril shrugged.

"So are a lot of **other **things," Ray told Cyril. "Like arson, blackmail…"

"Okay so she's not the most…" Cyril paused. "Rational person in the world. And she doesn't always think things through…"

"That implies that she **thinks** to begin with!" Ray snapped.

"I have to agree with Ray here," Krieger said. "As someone who's dated Cheryl…She's a little weird. And that's **me **talking!"

"You were only in it for the sex," Cyril told him. "And she let you do experiments on her."

"There were some experiments she wanted to do that even **I **found disturbing!" Krieger said. "I admit it. That's a pretty high bar to beat!"

"Cyril," Ray looked at him. "That woman is more than a few bricks shy of a full load. Her wheelbarrow is practically empty!"

"Oh, come on…" Cyril said.

"Her Happy Meal is missing more than a few fries," Ray went on.

"I've never had a Happy Meal," Krieger mused. "I've always wanted one."

"Cheryl Tunt's antenna doesn't pick up all the channels," Ray added. "She's proof that evolution can go in **reverse!**"

"It can," Krieger nodded. "I've done experiments to prove it."

"I'd say her clown car wasn't full but considering all those personalities she has…" Ray added.

"Okay so Cheryl isn't exactly perfect! But who is?" Cyril snapped. "Deep down she's really a sweet nice girl."

"You know **why** that sweet girl is deep down?" Ray asked. "Because she's scared of the insane arsonist bitch on the **outside!**"

"I've mixed acids and bases that were more stable than Cheryl," Krieger added.

"Look I know the first time we went out things weren't ideal…" Cyril began.

"She was blackmailing you into sleeping with her," Ray said. "Big **red flag** right there!"

"But let's be honest," Cyril said.

"That's what we're being," Ray said. "By telling you this!"

Cyril went on. "There's a good chance that Lana won't come back to me."

"There is an **excellent** chance Lana won't come back to you," Ray said.

"About 99.99 percent," Krieger spoke up. "I added the .01 percent in case of chance. Or insanity on Lana's part. Or Archer dies and she's desperate to get married and have a kid again. Or…"

"I **get** it!" Cyril snapped.

"I don't think you do," Krieger said honestly.

"Cyril have you forgotten what happened the **last time** you got involved with that woman?" Ray asked.

"This is different," Cyril said. "I'm not dating Lana or anyone this time!"

"I thought Cheryl was interested in Pam now?" Krieger asked.

"Ehhh," Ray shrugged. "It's more like a Lucy and Ethel thing. They're not exactly dating per say."

"Exactly! She's free! I'm free!" Cyril shrugged. "It's just one date. What's the harm?"

"Ask me that again when you get out of the hospital," Ray told him. "You do realize she's only doing this because she's bored and wants to tick Lana off right?"

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't," Krieger said.

"This has nothing to do with Lana," Cyril said.

"See?" Krieger pointed.

"Guys, I'm willing to give Cheryl another chance," Cyril said. "It's just one harmless dinner date. I don't see the problem."

"What's going on now?" Lana walked in.

Ray looked at Cyril. "Problem."

"No, no there isn't…" Cyril sighed. "I might as well tell you Lana."

"This ought to be good," Lana folded her arms.

Cyril took a deep breath. "Cheryl asked me for a date and I said yes."

"You should have said yes to a full-frontal lobotomy," Krieger quipped. "Sounds like you could use one."

"I know there's been some…" Cyril paused. "Unpleasantness in the past."

"Like when you cheated on Lana with her," Ray added.

"And then she blackmailed Cyril into sleeping with her some more," Krieger added. "In some weird plot to get back at Archer."

"But I think Cheryl and I can act like adults and move forward," Cyril said.

"Here's everything wrong with **that sentence**…" Ray began.

"Things are different now," Cyril ignored him. "And I think Cheryl deserves another chance."

"Isn't that what the head of the psychiatric ward she was in said?" Krieger asked. "Because I'm pretty sure his diagnosis was a little off."

Lana looked at Cyril. "Let me get this straight. You're taking Cheryl out. On a date. _Voluntarily_?"

"Yes," Cyril sighed. "I hope this doesn't bother you."

Lana looked at Cyril. Then she started to laugh. Very loudly. "Nooooope! HA! HA! HA!"

"You know…?" Cyril looked at Lana.

"Ha! HA! HA!" Lana laughed.

"So you don't have a problem with this?" Cyril asked.

"Oh nooooo!" Lana laughed. "I'm good! You and Cheryl go do **whatever **you want! You can even screw her and I wouldn't care! It's fine with me! Ha! HA! HA!"

"See?" Cyril said to the guys. "No problem!"

Lana picked up her cell phone and made a call. "Mallory! Mallory! I have something. Wait until you hear this! Guess what stupid thing Cyril did **this time?"** She left the room.

"I told you," Cyril said. "Everything will be fine. Lana's okay with it. This won't be a disaster."

"That's what the captain of the Titanic said," Ray remarked. "And if Cheryl ain't one big iceberg of crazy…"

"Cyril," Lana walked back in holding her phone. "Mallory has something to say to you."

"HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!" Mallory's voice rang loud and clear from the phone. "HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!"

"Yeah I figured you could use a laugh," Lana grinned as she spoke into the phone. "You're welcome." She walked away.

Cyril looked at Ray and Krieger. "It will be fine!" He snapped. "Just fine!" He stormed out of the room.

Krieger remarked. "That's what Rommel said when he decided to take the day off from World War II to celebrate his wife's birthday. On June 6. 1944."

"Something tells me there is going to be a lot of explosions on this occasion as well," Ray mused. "You want a Happy Meal? For some reason I really feel like a Happy Meal."

"Me too!" Krieger grinned.

Later that evening…

"You really didn't have to pick me up Cheryl," Cyril gulped as he rode in the passenger's seat in an expensive black Jaguar. "I could have driven."

"Nah, I felt like doing something nice," Cheryl smiled as she drove down the street. "I haven't driven in a long time."

SCRREECH!

CRASH!

"Yeah I figured that," Cyril winced as they zoomed through a red light, causing two cars to crash into each other. "It's a nice car. I didn't know you had a Jaguar."

"Just something I picked up," Cheryl grinned.

VRRRROOMMM!

"AAAAHH!"

"Get out of my way stupid bicycle person!" Cheryl snapped. "Roads are for **cars**! Not bikes!"

"Actually, that's a bike lane…" Cyril gulped.

"I should have run over his stupid bike," Cheryl grumbled.

"You almost did," Cyril winced.

SCREEECH!

CRASH!

"Get out of my way moron!" Cheryl honked the horn. "God, I forgot how many idiots that don't know how to drive are on the road."

"If you keep driving like this there will be a few less of them," Cyril moaned. "Oh look! Here's the restaurant you told me about! Let's use the valet park…"

"Nah, I got this!" Cheryl waved as she drove into a parking lot. "Pam showed me how to do a Tokyo Drift. Wanna see?"

"NO!" Cyril shouted.

But of course, Cheryl ignored him.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!

CRASH! SMASH!

"Not bad for only my second time," Cheryl remarked. The car had smashed its nose against the wall of the restaurant.

"Well at least the air bags work!" Cyril snapped. "Not!"

BOOOOF!

An air bag popped up in Cyril's face. "OOFF!"

"Yeah I think there's a recall on those things," Cheryl remarked as she got out of the car. "Mine didn't go off so…"

"Ugh…" Cyril managed to scramble out of the car and fell onto the ground. "I'm okay!"

"Good," Cheryl nodded. "Come on! I got us a reservation."

"What about your car?" Cyril asked as he stood up wobblily. "It's ruined!"

"Eh, who cares?" Cheryl shrugged. "I'll just get another one. No big deal. Come on. Let's eat!"

"Why not?" Cyril moaned as he hobbled after Cheryl. "This meal could be my last."

A short time later inside the restaurant…

"I have to admit Cheryl," Cyril said as he ate his meal. "When you said you could get us a table at Le Bouf, one of LA's fanciest French restaurants. I had my doubts."

"I told you," Cheryl drank some wine. "When you're a Tunt you can pretty much go anywhere and do anything. Besides one of my cousins owns this restaurant so you don't have to worry about paying. I mean I know you're poor."

"Middle class," Cyril defended.

"_Seriously?"_ Cheryl blinked. "Wow the economy is a lot worse than I thought if **that's **true!"

"So…" Cyril thought it was time to change the subject. "You know I really don't know that much about you Cheryl. Like what your favorite book is."

"Fahrenheit 451," Cheryl said.

"No surprises **there,**" Cyril grumbled to himself.

"What?" Cheryl blinked.

"I said that's surprising," Cyril covered.

"I know," Cheryl rolled her eyes. "People think I'm a Little Women girl by looking at me. But that book is so stupid! Ugh! All they do is whine about their problems. No real fights or explosions. The only good parts where when Amy burns Jo's stupid book. And when Beth died. That meant that was one less of them."

"And you like Fahrenheit 451 because of the fires?" Cyril asked.

"Actually, what really drew me is the statement about censorship as well as the frightening precursor to today's modern media," Cheryl said. "Where knowledge is part of your individuality and ignorance is conformity. And there are a lot of parallels you can draw from that book to real life. I mean nowadays nobody bothers to burn books anymore. They just don't read them. Let's be honest, most people would rather watch a reality show than read a newspaper. They prefer entertainment rather than information. Which is a dangerous precedent seeing on who controls the narrative of truth. In the book a fireman's duty is to promote ignorance and keep people knowing the truth. Just like Fake News only arson is legal."

"Really?" Cyril was stunned. "That's surprisingly deep."

"I know," Cheryl nodded. "I really like the fire scenes too."

"Huh," Cyril blinked.

"I really wish arson was legal," Cheryl mused. "Then again doing something illegal and not getting caught is part of the fun!"

"New topic," Cyril said. "Did you have any pets while growing up?"

"Oh, tons of them," Cheryl waved. "Horses. Dogs. Cats. Rabbits. A couple of elephants. Some tanks full of stupid fish. I think my favorite pet is Babou."

"Babou is your **favorite pet**?" Cyril asked. "The ocelot you can't stand because he pisses over everything?"

"That's right," Cheryl nodded. "I mean he's still alive so that's saying something. Usually most of the pets I get are long dead by now. Some of them didn't even survive the days I got them. Like Christmas or my birthday."

"I had a goldfish," Cyril said. "Mr. Finn."

"That's pathetic," Cheryl waved. "I remember one Christmas I got two ponies, a cat, three puppies, a rabbit and a tank full of goldfish. The cat ate most of the goldfish before dinner. One of the ponies had to be shot because I broke its leg while riding it. The other pony was shot by my grandfather who was drunk and mistook it for a moose. Two of the puppies chased the cat into the street where one of the puppies got hit by a truck. The other puppy somehow got stuck in a sewer and floated away. The cat ran away and was never seen again. And the last puppy was eaten by one of Grandfather's killer plants."

"What about the rabbit?"

"Cook and Nanny turned him into a stew and a new muff," Cheryl said. "Hmm…Mr. Fluffy Stew. Very tasty."

"I loved Mr. Finn," Cyril said. "He was my best friend as a kid."

"Your best friend was a **fish?**" Cheryl asked. She muttered to herself. "No surprises **there**."

"I could always talk to Mr. Finn," Cyril frowned. "Until one day I came home and my father told me Mr. Finn was dead."

"How boring," Cheryl said as she took a sip of wine.

"Well if Mr. Finn was dead then where was the body?" Cyril asked. "Why not hold a funeral for Mr. Finn? My father said he already flushed him down the toilet."

"Okay this is a little more interesting," Cheryl noticed.

"Pretty convenient for him wasn't it?" Cyril growled. "Mr. Finn is reported to be dead but there's no body. And the only witness was my bastard father who hated **anything **that made me happy!"

"Interesting how you surround yourself with people with that exact same trait," Cheryl remarked.

"Short lifespan my ass!" Cyril snapped. "Mr. Finn had a short lifespan because my father murdered him!"

"Oh, like you're the only one who had parents who killed your pets?" Cheryl waved. "It happens. Move on."

"Just wait until it's **your turn** to go old man," Cyril grumbled with a far away look in his eyes. "Maybe I'll flush **you** down the toilet? Ha! Justice for Mr. Finn!"

"Wow Cyril you have a real dark side to you," Cheryl remarked. "I find that very attractive."

"Huh? Oh…" Cyril snapped out of it. "Thank you?"

The waiter arrived with some dessert menus as other servers came to clear away the dishes. "I already know what I want," Cheryl said. "Some Cherries Jubilee!"

"Uh, Cheryl…" Cyril blinked. "Are you sure you want that?"

"Of course," Cheryl asked. "Why not?"

Ten minutes later…

FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" People were running out of Le Bouf screaming in terror as smoke started pouring out the restaurant.

"HA HA HA HA!" Cheryl laughed as she and Cyril ran for their lives out the back of the restaurant.

"I **knew** this would happen!" Cyril moaned as they ran. "I knew as soon as you said Cherries Jubilee you would…"

"Gotta give you that one," Cheryl admitted. "You know me so well."

"So does the arson squad," Cyril remarked.

"I said you didn't have to worry about paying, didn't I?" Cheryl asked as she led him down the street.

"Wait hang on…" Cyril blinked. "Cheryl which relative of yours owns this restaurant?"

"Oh, I lied," Cheryl said casually as they ran down the street. "Tunts don't own this dump."

"Well then **why**…?" Cyril was stunned. "Never mind! What about the car? I know it's wrecked but we can't just leave it there!"

"Why not? It's not even mine anyway," Cheryl waved. "Come on!"

Cyril realized. "WHAT? So, when you said you picked up that Jaguar…Did you **steal** it from someone?"

"No," Cheryl shrugged. "I just went to a car dealership this afternoon and told them I was taking it for a test drive."

"And they just **let** you?" Cyril asked. "Don't they usually send someone with you or…?"

"Not if you tell them you're a Tunt and show them your Tunt ID," Cheryl waved.

"You mean your driver's license?"

"Don't have one of those," Cheryl waved. "Besides all they're going to do is call my company and my company will pay them off. It's no big deal. Let's go for a walk!"

"In LA? At **night?"** Cyril moaned. "Why not just save the muggers some trouble and throw our money to them right now?"

"You're so funny Cyril," Cheryl laughed. "But you have a point. Nobody walks in LA. Good thing we're in a good neighborhood." She went to a car parked on the side of the road and tested the door. "Locked. Okay on to the next one."

"What are you **doing?"** Cyril hissed.

"Relax," Cheryl tested the door to a blue Porsche. "I do this all the time in neighborhoods like this. It's okay." She opened the door. "Jackpot!"

"Cheryl!" Cyril gasped.

"Ooh! Somebody left the keys in this one!" Cheryl grinned. She got in. "Come on!"

"But…But…OHHHH!" Cyril groaned in frustration as he reluctantly got in.

"Here we go!" Cheryl laughed as she drove away laughing. "I mean who is dumb enough to leave keys in a car in the first place?"

"Oh god…" Cyril whimpered. "I can't believe we stole a car!"

"Technically we already stole one car," Cheryl pointed out. "Oh, wait that one was me. You're right. This one is your first. My second."

"I should be looking for cops," Cyril gulped. "I should be looking for cops. Oh god what if a cop pulls us over?"

"Chillax Nervous Max," Cheryl rolled her eyes. "It's going to be fine. We're not going very far. There's this party I want to go to in the Hills which isn't that far from here."

"What party?" Cyril asked.

"It's a Friday night in LA," Cheryl said. "There's bound to be a party somewhere. Just lighten up."

Cyril was stunned. "Let me get this straight. Your plan is to just drive around LA in a stolen car looking for a party thrown by people you don't know? And aren't invited to?"

Cheryl was surprised. "You say that like I haven't thought this through."

"I certainly didn't think this date through," Cyril moaned.

"One time," Cheryl giggled. "Pam and I crashed this place. Turned out to be one of my cousins. Nobody was home and the key was right under the door. We must have gone back there at least six or seven times. That was wild. She had this club room in her closet with a stripper pole and everything."

Cheryl realized something. "I haven't been back there since she died. I wonder if my agency sold the house yet?"

"I wonder if I can convince the judge that I was a hostage at my trial?" Cyril moaned to himself.

A short time later at a fancy mansion in Beverly Hills Cyril and Cheryl found themselves mingling with guests. "I can't believe we just walked in. Nobody even checked our ID's."

"I told you," Cheryl said. "This is a nice house. I wonder who owns it."

"I still wonder how we got here without being caught by the police," Cyril said. "You destroyed a mailbox on the way up here."

"Yeah I don't like that handling on that car," Cheryl said. "I think I might not use it anymore."

"I don't know if it **can** be used anymore," Cyril groaned. "You smashed one of the fenders. And parked the car on the lawn!"

"Just relax," Cheryl waved. "Nobody noticed. As long as we play it cool, we'll fit right in to whatever this is."

"This place really is swanky," Cyril whistled. "But what if we get caught?"

"We won't," Cheryl took some champagne from a waiter. "Relax and follow my lead."

"Okay," Cyril took a glass of champagne and drank it. Then he put the glass down and took another one. Then drank that one.

"That's the spirit!" Cheryl grinned as she downed her champagne. "I wonder if anyone here is dealing blow?" She threw the glass over her shoulder and it broke against a wall.

Cyril saw something. "Hey, is that one of the Real Housewives of Orange County?"

"Which one?" Cheryl asked.

"The blonde one," Cyril pointed.

"Oh yeah," Cheryl said. "So it is. I like her. She's crazy. Hey! That's Grace Ryan over there."

"The TV anchor?" Cyril looked. "Oh yeah. Wow. She's tall in real life."

"I wonder if it's true about that rumor about her brain being infected by radioactive ants?" Cheryl mused.

"I highly doubt it," Cyril looked around.

"Let's mingle," Cheryl said happily.

"Why the hell not?" Cyril sighed as he grabbed another glass of champagne and started to sip it.

Cheryl casually walked by a waiter who was carrying a huge tray with a giant cake on it. She shoved him aside and he fell on top of a woman, covering her in cake. She screamed and hit the waiter.

She then casually tripped another waiter carrying drinks and he fell on top of some other people, showering them with alcohol.

"Oh right…" Cyril groaned. "Stupid question."

Cheryl casually took a glass of champagne from another waiter. Then walked by two women who were standing back to back. She poured the contents of the glass on one's head. The woman gasped in horror.

"She did it," Cheryl hid the glass of champagne behind her back and pointed to the other woman with her free hand.

"You bitch!" The first woman screamed at the second woman and attacked her.

"On second thought…" Cyril held back. "Maybe I should give Cheryl some space? If I stay too close to her people will think I'm with her." He moved away from Cheryl as she effortlessly moved through the crowd causing little bits of chaos.

Cyril backed up and casually bumped into someone. "Oh sorry…"

A handsome dark-skinned black man with a beard turned around. "No problem man. Kind of crowded in here isn't it?"

CRASH!

"It certainly is," Cyril groaned willing himself not to look in Cheryl's direction. "Hey! You're that actor. Dave Glengreen. You're on that show Selfish Men."

"Some of my best stuff," Dave nodded. "Too bad it got cancelled."

"Why?" Cyril asked. "It was a good show."

"Network crap," Dave waved. "That's why it's getting renewed on Netflix."

SMASH!

"Who threw that glass?" Someone shouted.

"Good for you!" Cyril said. "My ex and I loved to watch that show."

"Thanks," Dave said. "Do you know where the bathrooms are?"

"Not a clue," Cyril asked. "I've never been here before."

SMASH!

"Maybe you can ask the host?" Cyril suggested.

"Who's the host?" Dave asked.

"You **don't know**?" Cyril was stunned.

"Honestly dude I just drove around to see what parties were going on," Dave shrugged. "I don't even **know** these people! I just walked in. Crazy huh?"

"So, this is a **thing**?" Cyril was stunned. "Huh."

CRASH!

"Keep it on the down low, okay?" Dave asked.

"I won't tell if you won't," Cyril nodded.

"Cool man," Dave said as he left.

"Wow," Cyril said. "I talked to an actual TV star."

SMASH!

"Who broke that vase?" Someone screamed in a shrill voice.

"It will be an interesting story to tell my cellmates," Cyril groaned as he grabbed more champagne.

He moved over to an area where a woman was playing piano extremely well. He stood there simply enjoying the music and let himself relax. For a moment he was able to forget that he was an uninvited guest.

Until Cheryl bounded over to him. "Cyril! Cyril! Cy-rrrriiiiilll!"

"WHAT?" Cyril snapped. Then he realized they had interrupted the piano player and everyone was looking at them.

"Hello," Cyril gulped nervously.

"Good bye!" Cheryl pulled him away. "Come on! I want to show you something!"

"Goody," Cyril sighed. "Hey! Guess who I saw? You know the actor Dave Glengreen? He's here at this party! I actually talked to him!"

"I didn't see him so I don't care," Cheryl shrugged. "Come on!"

"Where are we going?" Cyril asked.

"I found the master bedroom," Cheryl said. "We're going to have sex in it."

Cyril was about to protest but then he realized it was going to be pointless. Plus, he was going to have sex with Cheryl again. "Why not?" He sighed as she took him into the room.

Thirty minutes later…

"Wow Cyril," Cheryl giggled as she put her dress back on. "That was really fun!"

"Yeah sorry about the rush job," Cyril said as he put his pants back on.

"No, I wanted a quickie," Cheryl waved. "It's fine."

"Should we remake the bed?" Cyril noted.

"I'm sure these people have maids for that," Cheryl waved.

"I should at least take that condom off the floor," Cyril winced.

"Nah!" Cheryl laughed. "The best part is wait until I tell Lana we had sex tonight!"

"I don't think she's going to care," Cyril admitted. "When I told her about our date she laughed and said she didn't care what we did."

"She **what?**" Cheryl was stunned. "Even if we screwed?"

"She said we could do it all we wanted," Cyril shrugged. "I'm starting to think she and I aren't going to get back together."

"Damn it! So much for my plan to tick her off!" Cheryl snapped her fingers. "I guess I just have to settle for good sex and this diamond bracelet." She picked up a diamond bracelet off the table and put it on.

"You **stole **somebody's diamond bracelet?" Cyril gasped.

"Think of it as a party favor," Cheryl grinned. "It was easy. The safe was right there in the wall behind a stupid painting and the combination was 36-24-56."

"How did you guess that?"

Cheryl rolled her eyes. "It was a Hanover Safe. That's practically **everyone's **combination for a Hanover Safe. They would have been safer if they used a stick of gum."

There was a knock on the door. "Speaking of safety…" Cyril groaned.

"Hang on!" Cheryl unlocked the door and looked at it. "What?"

"Are you done?" A woman said. She was standing with a man next to her.

"Done screwing. Oh yeah," Cheryl nodded. "We were just leaving."

"Uh sorry about…" Cyril's face turned red.

"Don't be," The woman said. "What do you **think **we're about to do?"

"It's not even our house," The man said. "In fact, I have no idea who lives here."

"Yeah we were just driving around looking for a party and found this place," The woman said.

"Told you," Cheryl said as she dragged Cyril away. "All yours."

"Dude I didn't expect you to make the bed," The man called out after he looked at the room. "But did you have to leave a condom on the floor?"

Cheryl brought Cyril downstairs. By now a couple of people were arguing very loudly. The two women from earlier were being restrained and screaming at each other. "Looks like the party is just getting good," Cheryl remarked.

"I think we should get out of here while we can," Cyril gulped as the two women broke free and started to fight again.

"Yeah you're right," Cheryl said. "Let's get out of here. I think I've done as much damage as I could to this party."

"I'm not even going to reply to that," Cyril sighed. "Because you might think it was some kind of challenge."

"Good call," Cheryl agreed.

"But we're **not **leaving in that stolen car we came here in," Cyril warned her.

"Oh God no," Cheryl said. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Ten minutes later…

"WHOO HOO!" Cheryl whooped as she drove the silver Lexus. "Now **this** is more like it! I mean this car totally handles much better than that piece of crap Porsche."

"This wasn't exactly what I meant," Cyril groaned. "Where are we going **now?**"

"Good question," Cheryl thought. "Oh, I know! Let's go to the beach!"

"You want to go to the **beach?**" Cyril asked.

"Yes," Cheryl nodded. "But first I wanna do something."

"What?" Cyril asked.

"We-ll," Cheryl said coyly.

Three minutes later…

"WHOO HOOO!" Cheryl whooped as she hung out of the passenger's seat window holding a baseball bat.

"Where the hell did you get a baseball bat in the first place?" Cyril groaned as he drove the Lexus.

"Quiet!" Cheryl cheered. "Batting time!"

She smashed a mailbox with the bat. "WHOOO HOO!"

"You just **had** to go on a date with Cheryl didn't you Figgis?" Cyril muttered to himself.

SMASH!

"You **knew **going into this, that this was a **bad idea**!" Cyril groaned. "Everybody told you this was a bad idea! But you didn't listen."

SMASH!

"**Why** didn't you **listen?**" Cyril moaned.

SMASH!

"The worst part is that **you know** better Figgis!" Cyril went on. "You **know** that woman's elevator doesn't go to the top floor! But you went out with her **anyway!" **

SMASH!

"HA! HA! HA!" Cheryl whooped. "Take that mailboxes!"

SMASH!

Cyril went on ranting. "You just weren't **thinking **were you, Figgis? Well not with your brain anyway!"

SMASH!

"Okay yeah we got laid," Cyril grumbled. "I admit **that**! But at what cost? I mean. Am I really so desperate for affection I'd let myself get into dangerous and highly illegal situations?"

SMASH!

"Apparently yes," Cyril groaned.

SMASH!

"Why didn't you **listen**?" Cyril moaned.

"I'm sorry Cyril," Cheryl pulled herself back in. "Did you say something?"

"Nothing important," Cyril sighed.

"Oh good," Cheryl nodded. "Okay pull over. I want to drive again."

"Cheryl can't we just call it a night and go home?" Cyril asked.

"NO!" Cheryl snapped. "The fun is just beginning!"

"That's what I'm afraid of," Cyril sighed. "Okay we're just going to the beach, right?"

"Of course."

"Okay then," Cyril pulled over. He muttered to himself. "How much damage can she possibly do there?"

Not long after that at the beach….

VRRRRRROOMMMM!

"HA HA HA HA!" Cheryl cackled as she drove the Lexus around some sandy dunes.

"SQUAWWWK!"

A small brown bird smashed against the windshield. "Take that stupid bird!" Cheryl shouted. She used the windshield wipers to knock it off.

VRRROMMM!

"SQUAWWK!"

SPLAT!

"Are those eggs on the…?" Cyril gasped as some eggs were splattering against the car. And a couple more birds. As well as…

THUNK!

On the windshield a sign showed up. Saying: WARNING! PLOVER NESTING SITE! ENDANGERED BIRDS!

"The Wildlife Association isn't going to be happy about this," Cyril moaned.

"I can't see with that stupid sign in the way," Cheryl snapped. "Oh well, I'll just drive straight and hope I don't run into anything."

"NO! NO! NO!" Cyril shouted as the sign fell away. "We're headed towards the ocean!"

"Cool!" Cheryl cheered.

"THAT'S IT!" Cyril unbuckled himself and opened the car door. "I'M OUTTA HERE!" He jumped out and rolled onto the sand. "OW! OW! OW!"

"WHEEEEE!" Cheryl did the same thing.

SPLASH!

"Look at how fast that car is going!" Cheryl cheered as they got up. The car was sinking into the ocean. "You think we can use that to go home?"

"I think the engine might be flooded," Cyril said dryly.

"Oh well," Cheryl shrugged. "Hey! Look over there!"

Further down the beach were some bonfires and people dancing around. "It's a beach rave! I've never been to one! WHOO!" Cheryl ran towards the party.

"God will this nightmare never end?" Cyril sighed. He reluctantly followed Cheryl.

Before he knew it, he was amid a group of people wearing mostly bathing suits dancing around with glow sticks. He danced with Cheryl but then Cheryl moved away and started dancing with some shirtless buff men.

Cyril blinked then moved away to the outside of the group. "I think I'm getting too old for this," Cyril realized. He saw there were some open coolers and went to grab a beer.

It must have been twenty minutes and he had finished the beer and was watching the scene from the parking lot. A car honked its horn. Cyril turned around and had to jump out of the way.

"Hey Cyril!" Cheryl was driving a convertible with a hot looking shirtless blonde surfer. "I'm gonna head on out with Brad. I had fun on our date tonight."

"Oh well…" Cyril began.

"I'm probably going to come in late," Cheryl interrupted him. "Or maybe not until Monday. See ya!" She sped off rapidly.

"Well," Cyril looked at the disappearing car. "She's that guy's problem now."

"Of course, that leaves me with the very **real problem** of how to get home," Cyril sighed. "I don't think I have enough money for a cab or Uber. I can't call Ray. He'd laugh his ass off at me and lecture me. And probably blackmail me for more hours. He's out."

"Lana is definitely out. And so is Ms. Archer. And Krieger…No. I really don't want to be alone in a van at night with Krieger. So that leaves…Oh God."

Cyril pulled out his phone and called a number. "It's me. Can you pick me up by the beach? Cheryl kind of dumped me."

"HAAA!" Pam's voice was heard.

"Yeah real funny," Cyril groaned. "I'm by the Red Pier. Pick me up."

"Ten-Four Major Snore!" Pam was heard. She hung up the phone.

"Ugh…" Cyril sighed. "This is going to be a **long ride. **I might as well get another free beer."

About thirty minutes and a beer later…

Cyril saw Pam's van pull up. "Finally…" Cyril grumbled as he went to the van.

"So," Pam asked casually. "How was your date?"

"Date?" Cyril yelled as he got into the van. _**"Date?**_ It wasn't a date! It was a **crime spree!"**

"That usually is how most of Cheryl's dates are," Pam admitted.

"I wasn't her date!" Cyril snapped. "I was her **accomplice!**"

"This is why Cheryl and I don't date," Pam remarked. "I keep it more like a Lucy and Ethel thing for a reason! So what did she do this time?"

"What **didn't** she do?" Cyril snapped. "Cheryl stole not one. Not two. But **three** different cars during the evening. And a diamond bracelet! She burned down a restaurant where we ended up dining and dashing. Crashed a stranger's party in Beverly Hills…."

"Sounds swanky."

"It was," Cyril admitted. "Where we ended up having sex in the master bedroom. She destroyed our host's lawn and caused at least two small fights at that party. And God knows how much property damage."

"You didn't leave a condom on the floor, did you?" Pam asked. "Because there is such a thing as class."

"Then she forced me to drive one of the stolen cars while she bashed mailboxes and caused some more property damage in Beverly Hills," Cyril said. "I have to say, I thought Beverly Hills would have better security."

"So what happened after that?"

"She drove the third stolen car into a wildlife protected dune and killed off the latest generation of plovers," Cyril moaned. "Crashed the car into the ocean. Then we joined this weird beach rave. Only for her to ditch me for some surfer dude she picked up."

"Poor bastard."

"I'm fine," Cyril said. "Honestly when she left, I was more relieved than anything."

"I was talking about the surfer dude," Pam said.

"Ray is never going to let me live this down," Cyril groaned. "Or Lana."

"Or Ms. Archer," Pam added. "Or Krieger. Or Archer once I tell him about all this. Whenever he wakes up out of his coma. It's gonna be a hell of a story. He'll get a kick out of it."

"Swell," Cyril paused. "I saw one of the Real Housewives of Orange County. The blonde one."

"Really? Cool!" Pam said.

"I also saw Grace Ryan," Cyril went on. "And talked to the actor Dave Glengreen. But that's beside the point!"

"I don't see the problem," Pam said. "You ate a fancy meal you didn't have to pay for. You rode around in some nice cars. You drove a nice car. You went to a fancy party where you had drinks and saw some semi-famous people. You went to a rave at the beach. And you got laid. Criminal activities and bird genocide aside, it sounds like it was one of your better dates."

"Oh my God," Cyril realized. "That **was** one of my better dates!"

"And that really says something about your love life," Pam said.

"You know…?" Cyril glared at her.


End file.
